When Removing Alcohol Unmasks More Than Expected

I was not sure if or how I wanted to share this. It feels a little raw and still new. But the more I speak to other women who are thinking about taking a break from alcohol, the more I realise how many of us have been quietly struggling, not knowing why things feel harder than they should. If this helps even one woman feel less alone or finally start putting the pieces together, then it is worth it.

Because on the outside, I looked like I had it together.

For as long as I can remember, I have lived by lists. Lists on my fridge, lists in my phone, lists scribbled on post it notes and notebooks scattered through the house. It was how I coped. How I kept the wheels turning. If it was not written down, it was not happening.

But over the last year, even the lists stopped working.

Things started slipping through. I would stare at my calendar and feel completely overwhelmed. Everything felt harder to hold and for the first time since I gave up alcohol 19 months ago, I could feel how much I used to rely on it, not just to wind down, but to quiet the noise.

That low hum in the background? The racing mind, forgetfulness, the emotional rollercoaster, the thirty open browser tabs in my brain?

That was ADHD and I had been living with it since I was a kid.

At school I was the daydreamer. Creative, but disorganised. Teachers called me capable but inconsistent. Little did they know, I was working twice as hard to keep up. But no one saw that. I internalised the message that I was just not trying hard enough. So I got better at masking. I learned how to appear organised, polished and productive. Behind the scenes, I was juggling strategies to keep my brain on track, lists, calendars, colour coding, alarms.

I got really good at pretending it was all fine.

And then I stopped drinking.

Looking back, alcohol helped me manage my ADHD long before I knew I had it. It quieted the mental chatter. It softened the emotional intensity. It made social situations feel easier and slowed my thoughts just enough to feel “normal”.

Of course, it also brought its own set of problems. But I can now see that it was not just a habit or a crutch, it was a way to manage symptoms I did not know I had. Since removing alcohol, everything that was always there became louder and that forced me to listen. To look deeper. To stop explaining everything away as overwhelm or burnout.

Being diagnosed as an adult has felt both freeing and frustrating. On one hand, everything finally made sense. On the other, I could not help but wonder how different life might have felt if I had known sooner. But I do not dwell there for long. The diagnosis has given me language. It has given me tools, and it reminded me that I am not broken, I just process the world differently and that is okay.

Here is what I know now.

I need structure, but not pressure. My lists still help, but I build in breathing room.

If it is not in my calendar or on my to do list, it will not get done. That is just how my brain works.

I need reminders, movement, rest and connection. Not wine.

Some days I still forget things or spiral into 15 unfinished tasks. That does not mean I am failing.

To any woman wondering…
If you feel like you are always “just managing”.
If you use alcohol to settle your nerves or silence your mind.
If you have spent years being hard on yourself for being forgetful, emotional or “too much”.

Please know this, it might not be you. It might be something bigger, and it is worth looking into, especially without alcohol in the picture. So many women are only realising this later in life as we have masked so well for so long, but the unmasking is where the healing starts.

Removing alcohol has given me clarity. Getting diagnosed has given me understanding with a clearer path moving forward. Now I am learning how to truly support myself, not silence myself, and that feels like freedom.

By: Caitlin Behrens